The Delta

 
I was asked twice last week about the value of ideas. Specifically, what’s the relative importance of an idea for a book as compared to the writing of it?
 
A good idea is important to the creation of a good story, certainly. And the development of that idea into a series of plot events is also important (whether that happens explicitly on paper as an outline or within the head of the writer as they draft, depending on where they exist on the plotter-pantser continuum).
 
But I also believe both those aspects pale in comparison to the actual execution of the work. (We’ve discussed this earlier,  here .)
 
So… below is how I sometimes get people thinking about the non-trivial delta between (1) an idea, (2) its planning, and (3) its execution… and where each fits within the hierarchy of literary attributes.
 
You can implement this as a thought experiment (i.e. you “do it in your head,” and visualize the outcome) or you can actually do it and weigh the results. Either way, it can be interesting.
 
It’s a simple three step process…
 
1. Think of a scary scene.
 
2. Briefly outline the scene.
 
3. Write the scene in such a way that—even though they know it’s complete fiction—it will still manage to scare the crap out of the reader.
 
3.1 Options:  Or do the same with a scene that will make the reader fall head-over-heels in love with a character, or break their heart, or move them to tears.*
 
[*The critical point is to create within the reader the same thoughts and emotions—with all the attendant dopamine, oxytocin, and/or adrenaline—that occur when these events happen in real life.]
 
That’s the whole thing, about as succinctly as I can put it.
 
The funny thing is, many aspiring writers are taught to put a lot of emphasis on some combination of #1 and/or #2.
 
Because it’s pretty easy to think of story events.
 
And it’s not that difficult to outline them. And some may think that once they have a plan, it’ll be relatively simple to write it in a compelling manner. Which is a trap, because…
 
It turns out it’s really difficult to show those events in such a way that they actually feel real to the reader. (This is why Stephen King is a household name and worth zillions of dollars.)
 
Another possible way to visualize this paradigm, for the musically oriented…
 
1. Think up and hum a short, simple, nursery-rhyme-type tune.
 
2. Go to a keyboard, pick out the notes of the melody, and jot them down.
 
3. Go to an auditorium and play it on a violin such that it leaves the audience in tears.
 
Most people can do #1, in seconds.
Many people can accomplish #2, in a few minutes.
Very few people can accomplish #3. And those that do generally take years to get there.
 
I’m not making the point that writing is hard. Because that’s personal, subjective, and variable… sometimes it feels almost impossible and other times it flows like water.
 
I’m saying that in the hierarchy of writing skills, the execution (the actual writing) is significantly more difficult than either the inception or the planning of the work.
 
And—I would argue—significantly more important to the outcome.
 
Which means that this is where we might want to invest our time, practicing the actual craft that forms the foundation of our art.
 
Happy writing!